Five Times Sherlock Thinks John is Talking to Him
by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley
Summary: It's become a regular occurrence...John can't talk to Mary without Sherlock answering


**1\. Shopping**

It was a rare, quiet, afternoon. John was working on his blog, Mary was enjoying the sight of him swearing and muttering under his breath as he furiously typed some words and then rapidly pressing the back space bar.

Every few minutes John would mutter something that made her giggle.

Sherlock ignored them both as he played his violin in an unusually content manner.

It truly was one of the rarest afternoons in 221B Baker Street. Eventually though John gave up and went for a much needed tea break. "We're out of milk again," John complained as he slammed the fridge door shut. He sighed heavily. "I'll have to go out again and get some. Do you want anything dear?"

Sherlock paused in his violin playing with a terrible screech. "We're also out of bread and I could do with a pig's head, it's for an experiment," there was a moment of silence while both John and Mary decided it was best not to ask. "Oh, and some apples? Mrs Hudson has been very irritating about me having my vitamins," Sherlock rolled his eyes at that.

"Sherlock," John said with little patience, "I'm not your errand boy."

"You asked me if I wanted something," Sherlock blinked, "and I want bread, a pig's head, and some apples."

"I was _talking_ ," John said between gritted teeth, " _to my wife_."

"Oh," Sherlock murmured, "well then. Mary has been craving medium rare steak with a side helping of vanilla ice cream, topped with pineapple and maple syrup."

John raised an eyebrow at Mary. "He's right," Mary shrugged which cause John's eyebrow to go up higher. "Hey, it's _your_ baby!" Mary said defensively. "She gets her strange tastes from you."

"Fine," John said amused, "I'll get that as well."

"And the bread, the pig's head, and-"

"Yes, yes," John interrupted, "I'll get those too."

He didn't get the pig's head but honestly can you blame him?

 **2\. Going Away**

John placed his bag by the front door and turned round. "It will be only a few days," he said hurriedly, "You'll barely notice I'm gone."

"Of course," Mary said with dry amusement.

"It's just leg work," he promised, "nothing dangerous." Mary gave him a disbelievingly look. "Okay, there might be a _little_ danger," John admitted, "but nothing that would kill me."

"I'm sure you're right," Mary smiled, "you have fun now."

"I shall," he embraced Mary warmly and pressed a loving kiss against her temple. "I will miss you terribly," another kiss on her cheek, "I'll think about you the whole time I'm gone," and another, "and I'll call you every night."

"Oh for Christ sake, just _go_!" Sherlock barked impatiently. "As flattering as it is that you'll miss me I would much prefer you spend your time thinking about the case, John. Honestly," he rolled his eyes, "I don't remember you being this clingy before. How on earth did you cope with our time apart in the past?"

"Sherlock," Mary said sweetly, "he was saying goodbye to _me_."

"Oh," Sherlock blinked, "where's _my_ goodbye?!" he cried out indignantly.

"Please," John snorted, "you wouldn't have noticed that I was even gone."

Despite the fact that was this the truth and Sherlock knew it. That Sherlock had often snapped out of his thinking to find that John had been gone for weeks at a time….Sherlock still looked incredibly put out.

"John said goodbye to you earlier," Mary reassured him, "and you snapped 'thinking' back at him."

"Obviously."

Sherlock then lapsed back into thought as John kissed Mary once more and left. It would be another two days until Sherlock looked up and asked where on earth John had gotten too.

Much to his annoyance that seemed to have entertained Mary to the point of ridiculous hysterical laughter which was something he couldn't understand.

 **3\. Even in Sherlock's Hallucinations**

" _Unbelievable_ ," John interrupted Sherlock's retelling of his Victorian Hallucination, "even in your drug-induced fantasy you think I'm talking to you instead of Mary."

"Of course I am," Sherlock rolled his eyes, "I have the best memory skills and a better understanding of every person's habits than anyone in the world. If I was going to fool myself into believing my hallucination was real then I would throw in some unnecessary irritating interaction based on reality. _God_ John," Sherlock rolled his eyes again, "don't be so _dull_."

"I am seriously _this close_ to hitting you."

"How dull."

 **4\. Compliments**

They had gotten in too deep in a case and the suspect turned on them. They were barely able to dodge the onslaught of bullets when there was a thumping sound and a light groan and the suspect suddenly collapsed.

The heavily pregnant Mary beamed as she placed the bat on the ground.

"You," John said admiringly, "are the most beautiful, amazing, and gorgeous, intelligent, fantastic, amazing, thoughtful, and perfectly sexy person in the whole world."

"John I know I'm your whole world and you can't help but be fascinated with my mind and skills," Sherlock said exasperated, "but aren't you laying it on a bit thick?"

"Talking. To. My. _Wife_." John said slowly through gritted teeth. "Still not gay, remember?"

"I am beginning to notice that you have grown extremely repetitive in your old age," Sherlock replied monotonously, "how you have not bored your wife yet I do not know."

"Oh trust me," Mary smirked, "he's very exciting where it matters."

Sherlock didn't understand why John went bright pink at that. Then he decided it really didn't matter and deleted this tedious bit of dialogue in favour of focusing on the actual case again.

 **5\. I Love You**

Mrs Hudson decided to throw Mary a baby shower which meant, much to Sherlock's melodramatic, never-ending, annoyance, that his flat was thoroughly decorated with streamers and there were people milling about (ignoring the fact that only three other people showed up). The afternoon was spent with Mrs Hudson, Molly, and Mary cooing over all the little baby clothes, Mycroft eyeing up Mrs Hudson's cake, and Sherlock being a pain.

He had pick-pocketed both Lestrade and Mycroft, made a load of irritating deduction, and had mistaken John speaking to Mary for John speaking to him sixteen times this afternoon alone.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Lestrade asked. "That Sherlock thinks John is talking to him instead of you I mean?" he elaborated at Mary's confused expression. "After all for him to keep making that mistake John must have spoken to him like that before he married you."

"Or maybe Sherlock is just a narcissist who thinks everything is about him?" John suggested frigidly. "Have you ever thought of _that_?"

"There, there, John," Marry patted his hand, "no," she replied to Lestrade, "it doesn't bother me at all. It is very obvious that John is the most important person in Sherlock's life," John flushed at that, "and that Sherlock assumes John returns the sentiment. Why should it bother me?" Mary turned to gaze at John and Sherlock adoringly. "They're the very best of friends and I would never dream of standing between them."

John blinked and smiled sappily. "You're amazing," he said tenderly, "I love you."

"I love you too, John."

"TALKING TO MY WIFE!"


End file.
